


First Impressions

by SageMasterofSass



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fashion AU, M/M, its barely shippy, just kinda a really quick one-shot, more of a drabble than anything else but hey i was inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:57:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMasterofSass/pseuds/SageMasterofSass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lev is a horribly dressed and awkwardly posed model. </p>
<p>Yaku is a fashion designer who doesn't have time for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the au idea goes to burritosong on tumblr and I guess her friend?? It was a conversation they were having that inspired me so yeah.

Yaku doesn’t have time to mess around today. His new line is being released in just a few short weeks and he has a literal fuckton of work to get done before even a single piece can be revealed. Namely he needs models, attractive ones, and he needs them now. 

So when he slips into the auditions that Kuroo is (mercifully) handling for him, and he sees this lanky, disheveled sore thumb his first instinct is to kick the man out. Because a) he’s obviously lost and b) if he’s not well Yaku can already tell he doesn’t want anything to do with him. He’s ridiculously tall, well muscled but slim, and he’s wearing the most atrocious outfit Yaku has ever seen in his life. Dull green over-alls covering a white t-shirt that he thinks has some kind of band logo on it, one pant leg rolled up to reveal a thick calf, and a boxy pair of black crocs on his feet. Despite how well portioned his body is, and the attractive slant of his eyes, he’s slouching and awkward and just screams ‘I do not belong in the fashion industry’. 

Seriously, Yaku does not have time for this. 

“Kuroo,” he says, sidling up to the taller man. Kuroo’s got a clipboard in one hand, the other on his hip as he appraises the current line-up of models. If they pass the initial once over (which most do) they’ll be sent to hair and make-up and they’ll be dressed in a style similar to Yaku’s new line (though not exact, he doesn’t want any leaks). From there they’ll be photographed and all the photos will wind up on his desk in a nice manila folder Monday morning. He just has to pick his favorites from the bunch, send the photos back and badda bing he has his models. Now if only the business and pr part of his job were that easy.

A faint humming noise is all that Yaku gets from Kuroo as confirmation that he’s been heard.  As a fellow designer Kuroo has a sharp, keen eye, especially for body types, and despite the fact that Yaku is endlessly grateful for his help right now (when Kuroo could be working on new designs for his own company) he can’t help his frazzled nerves and short temper.

“Kuroo,” he barks, snapping his fingers in the other man’s face.

Dark eyes meet his and Kuroo only grins lazily, looking for all his worth like a teenager who’s proud to have been caught in the act. “Can I help you?”

Yaku has learned after years of working with this man not to rise to his bait. So he settles his breath and quickly points out the light haired man still waiting for his chance to audition. It’s not difficult, he stands at least a head taller than everyone else.

“Don’t let him pass the first round,” Yaku says sternly.

Kuroo’s gaze finds the man and his fingers tap loudly against his clipboard. “Hmmm,” is all he says.

There’s a distinct buzzing from Yaku’s pocket and he suddenly remembers that he’d only meant to pop into the auditions to see how they were going, not govern them, and that he’s got a lunch date with the head of his pr department in less than five minutes.

“I’m serious about that guy,” he says in lue of a goodbye. “Don’t waste the make-up artists time.”

———

Monday morning Yaku opens the folder on his desk and starts quickly flipping through the photos within. There are a few models who catch his eye, and he sets them off to the side in consideration. It’s when he gets to the middle of the stack, however, that he stumbles across it.

The photos are mostly bland, and the models had been told to pose however they had wanted in order to show case themselves best. There are a lot of hands on hips, arms over the head, crouching, so on and so forth. But the man in this particular picture is doing none of those things. He’s turned so that only his left side is visible to the camera, leaned back with a casual grace, chin tipped up almost definitely and mouth pulled back in a charming smile. His hands are in his pockets and his weight is resting on one foot, the other placed out before him with the back of his heel to the ground. It’s all very natural, and the loose, almost wind-swept style of both his clothing and hair speak of comfortable movement and ease. The real kicker, however, are his eyes, bright and knowing and beckoning even from the two dimensional world they’re trapped in, turning what could have been a soft smile into something almost devious but a touch too innocent.

Yaku stares at the picture for a long moment before something clicks into place for him. It’s the man, the one in the awful green over-alls, with the awkward stance and unwieldy body who he had specifically told Kuroo to kick out.

He doesn’t know whether to kick Kuroo’s ass or kiss him for finding the single most attractive male model on the face of the planet. Then he notices the black scrawl at the bottom of the photo, in Kuroo’s large, neat handwriting.

“Told him you’d want to hire him as a regular. Seemed ecstatic and said he really looked up to you. Don’t jump him too quickly ;)”

Kick his ass. Definitely. 


End file.
